Lyrics The S.F.C. - JT The Bigga Figga

The S.F.C.

Gigolo nigga loungin' in the studio, with my boy JT The Bigga Figga, Dee-Moe,
Young Seff and the RBL Posse, with my young baby boy San Quinn
And we finna let 'em know like
We gonna, we gonna do a song, that you never heard before
Goes a little somethin' like this
We gonna do a song
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
The 415, the main attraction
Frisco, a place for action
Cars comin' through, without the brains
Whitewalls, Vogues and gold Dana Danes
Won’t be complete, without the beat
Two 18s, soundin' way too sweet
Hit the block, plan keep a bitch broke
Where’s the indo?
It’s time to smoke
Man, I’ll sick up all you hoes
Suck my dick and lick my toes
Say what’s up to Dana, say to hell with me
He owns the Vogues, I hold the key
I drive the car and he rolls the wheels
Cougars, 'stangs and punked out 'villes
Especially young niggas growin' up in the hood
Especially when a young nigga’s up to no good
A con man a gaffler, out to get rich
Bust a nut off money, who needs a bitch?
See Frisco’s my home, I’ll never switch
Out to get rich, pimpin' your bitch
Seven days a week from Page to OC
Sellin' that pussy for an itty-bitty fee
Can’t sit down, because that ass is soaked
Fuckin' with Seff, a gangsta from Frisco
That’s lettin' niggas know about the bass in the trunk
'Cause Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
I’m a mothafuckin' money maker, smokin' dank and pimpin' bitches all day
Black Chris from the SF to the C
And for you bitches that are hangin' from my bozak
Young bitch, it’s the Frisco payback
To you marks, that’s all poppin' Frisco
It’s like this, you better make a wish bro
No mistakin' it’s the mothafuckin' money maker
And your mothafuckin' life is what a nigga take
Try to perpetrate and rush to my side
You’ll catch a Frisco left to your right eye
I’m not a gang banger but I claim a set though
Harbor Road, the place I get my cash flow
Young niggas in Frisco on a ride
RBL, YBG and we on high
Pimp a bitch for a minute, then we gotta quit it
'Cause the niggas in Frisco just wanna hit it
But don’t trip, I left your ass heartbroken
At least I left you with the dank and your ass chokin'
A young nigga in Frisco named Black
Fuck a nigga bitch, now I gotta grab my gat
Nine double-m slugs to his fuckin' head
Now he sittin' there dressed up in red
And the mark is now body-bagged in the trunk
He got the picture, us niggas ain’t punks
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
A million gang bangers in my mothafuckin' city
Sheisty-ass hoes on the nutsack, shitty
Why oh why, did I smoke the fool
Choked the bitch, then broke the fool
All some problems for the YBG
Nigga cocked the Glock, then he clocked the Gs
Puttin' that on it ain’t nothin' in Frisco
For ki’s and Gs, you know and late night turf hoes
On the Vogues come through for a baller
Nigga pushin' shit, flowin' like water
Some go up and some go broke
Some lay low, yeah and some get smoked
But I stack shit, 'cause you know I’m rappin'
and I’m 'bout to go platinum
And it just don’t stop, to the tip-toe top
Slingin' dope shit, like a nigga slingin' rock
RBL, came through and dropped it
Me and JT came tight and popped it
Seff lay low, lounge with a hoe
Jacked her for her shit, twenty Gs and more
Some say peace and some say funk
But I bang twice and then I pop that trunk
Punks are gettin'
Like catch some lead and gettin' thrown in the trunk
youngster I ain’t no punk
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Niggas always puttin' too much on us
Sayin' they the hardest place in California
But we got more than cable cars and bags
Like hard head niggas in drop-top rags
out for the gankin'
Young baller players goes out on Mustangs
That’s how it is in
You better be from over there, 'cause you ain’t down with me
And since you ain’t with me, then your ass gotta go
'Fore your ass get got or straight the ho
And if you didn’t hear me better stop and listen
'Cause when your ass starts slippin'
All the way to the mothafuckin' Moe
In other words, if you ain’t from here, then your ass gotta go
So keep the Glock straight cocked in the trunk, with the funk
'Cause Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
San Quinn is a psycho on a mothafuckin' war path
Gang bangin', crack slangin', leavin' bustas in the body bag
As I stomp through Frisco, left hand on my pistol
Dank in the right hand, fuck the Cisco
And see a gang a niggas, speakin' on real shit
Drop top Benzes on chrome kits
Hoes switchin' that ass, hopin' to get a piece
Of the ballin' ass nigga, livinin' in the Frisco streets
Kilos, ounces, pullin' all-nighters
From Fillmore to Hunter’s Point, nothin' but fighters
Riches, snitches and a nigga like myself
A hustler, a grinder on the verge of wealth
Only fourteen but the dirt has been done
Since the tender age of twelve, I packed a fuckin' gun
can be twisted in the city of lies and gankas
Drop Cougars droppin' shooters and gangstas
Game is caught and sucked into the brain
I listened to it all my life ain’t a damn thing changed
If you wanna be a nigga Fillmoe handle it
If you want to get down and dirty, Frisco got scandalous
'Cause when you’re raised in hell you’re like a devil
Shut off at sea level, run the shit like a rebel
My nigga Gigolo, made the beat and slammed it
Pass the mic, dissed a fag and a dyke, 'cause I demand it
Yes in the '90
Smokin' dank, puffin' powder, fuckin' all the fine hoes
Frisco niggas, couldn’t be punks
Gats in the lap, sometimes in the trunk
San Quinn runnin' game called reality
I never been to the pen, but got the mentality
These punks out here man, they can’t handle me
Comin' up real in my mothafuckin' city
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
West coast lifestyle, playas in the game
Niggas just chillin', ain’t nothin' change
Move it up, move it down, move it over
Puttin' in work, goddamn I shoulda told ya
For the 9−2, niggas gotta come through
The YBG and the RBL crew
On a nonstop basis, suckers can’t fade this
Listen to the beat, Gigolo made this
My nigga Dee-Moe and my homie Black Chris
Mister C, I’m finna floss so check it out trick
Each verse, each song, each track made
Then you know that the Bigga Figga gettin' paid
'Cause niggas always talkin' about Frisco
What’s up with them niggas and their gettin' low?
Well I’ma tell ya niggas poppin' that shit
With the rhyme and the game and it’s all on hit
And then ya say really though?
It was mixed and recorded at New Balance studios
So what’s up to the big SFC
And the niggas that was down with JT
And the RBL click
And all you groupie motherfuckas just stay on the tip
And you might wanna fight
'Cause the flow’s so smooth and the shit’s so tight
But back to the niggas in Frisco
All the way to H-P to Fillmore
Through the cuts, through the strip of the backroad
Where the niggas burn the rubber off a fat Vogue
In the swamp where my cousin got the dank
In the L where they make all the bank
In the View where the niggas get merciless
Straight game but y’all never heard of this
Like my boy Seff says «straight servin' this»
I’m doing damage and it’s permanent
So all you hoes just give up the rump
'Cause Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
Just might serve they monkey asses again
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
Frisco niggas ain’t no punks
We got sess
And if you ain’t packin' then don’t say shit
So now you know, just a little taste of the Frisco life
I’d like to stay one love to the Bigga Figga nigga and it’s the Gigolo,
and I’m 4−1-5 thousand
Yeah, you know what I’m sayin', it’s the JT nigga
I know niggas don’t understand how us Fillmore niggas and us H-P niggas got
together to do this shit
But you know, that’s what time it is, we got to get our money on,
and we outta here